


Biiiiig Streeeetch

by foxymoley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley
Summary: Cas watches Dean stretch before his morning flight from his eyrie during quarantine.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 40
Collections: ProfoundBond Exchange: Quarantine & Chill





	Biiiiig Streeeetch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuillsAndInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/gifts).



> A gift for QuillsAndInk as part of the Profound Bond Discord Server Exchange!

The lenses blurred as Cas turned the dial and his hands shook against the delicate movement. He felt like a creep, worse than a creep—a pervert—watching his neighbour do his morning stretches; through binoculars, no less. 

Cas hadn't lived there long when he had finally worked up the nerve to ask the man his name. Dean. A strong, but strangely soft, name that suited the floral tattoos that bloomed across the side of his torso. 

Then quarantine happened. Cas was desperate to actually ask the adonis for his number but he wasn't exactly comfortable enough to yell across their yards. So, for now, he was making do with fueling his imagination from a distance. 

Dean dropped to his knees and placed his hands in front of him, moving easily into downward dog, his wings pointing gracefully to the sky. 

Cas sighed. Yeah, he was a pervert. It didn't stop him from watching though, far from it. Every morning Cas would stand in the dark mouth of his eyrie and spy on his hot neighbour. Dean's stretches seemed to take longer and longer, yet were over too soon. 

This was definitely the highlight of Cas' day. Watching the sunlight shine off the golden brown of Dean's feathers and hair, the way the muscles moved under the colourful ink adorning his skin. Did the man have to fly in just tight shorts and safety goggles? Was he trying to kill Cas and every human with a libido within a 20 mile radius? 

Castiel argued with himself. On the one hand, he knew exactly what he was doing was wrong but on the other, Dean was now doing a crablike position that involved way too much thigh muscle. 

Dean's wings brushed the surface of his landing pad and shifted suddenly, propelling him into an agile flip squarely onto his feet. 

Cas felt his jaw physically drop and he nearly dropped the binoculars. Jesus christ. Deep breaths, Castiel. 

He refocused on the subject of his shameful voyeurism to find Dean looking straight at him, making eye contact against all the odds of being so far away and behind glass. Cas froze. A slow, wolfish grin spread across Dean's perfect features and he winked. The bastard winked, right to Cas' face. This was it. This was how Cas was gonna die. He could see it now. Here lies Castiel James Novak. Beloved brother and son. Died by rapid erection. Good lord. 

Once he'd gathered his few wits together—facilitated soley by Dean having flown away—Castiel went to 'lie down', then he again ventured meekly onto his own landing pad.

There was something different about Dean's house. There, in the window, a large poster? A banner? He dared to raise his binoculars again then grinned at the playful scrawl of numbers. 

555-5738-6893

Better quality still version:


End file.
